Be My Warmth

by Shanade White

  So why did it hurt so damn much?

  “I hate this,” Whitney said. Another tear spilled out. “Couldn’t even believe this happiness existed.”

  “I hate it too,” Jack said.

  They clung to each other, and said nothing else. There was no need. Every second that passed was one less second they could have.

  So they drank in the presence of each other for as long as possible.

  *****

  Returning home, Whitney collapsed into bed. The journey back had been subdued, anticlimactic. Arrangements had been to leave at six in the evening, after a four-thirty dinner, and a little over fourteen hours later, Whitney made it back to her yellow-sheeted bed.

  She felt like complete shit, when she should have been happy to return – though she chalked it over to the fact the journey had exhausted her. Five hours of sleep later, she woke up, still feeling like dirt. Memories plagued her. Miles and Anja, arguing with each other. The main chef, Horace, grinning knowingly as she seized a peanut butter sandwich. Alex’s imperious stare as she surveyed her environment. Graham Cracker, towering above the other horses, snapping at Natalie. That stupid Outback Bandits logo on the company car Natalie drove. The Australian hat that never made it past their car trip stint.

  Faith, holding up her camera and obtaining a myriad of pictures. Sandra, relaxing in the spa, Gracie and Tia trying to hit the bulls-eye on the target. The dining hall, the cabin, the books by the side, and the vast, open expanse of Brook Valley ranch and the lands around it.

  And of course, the last and most poignant memory, Jack Brook. Thinking about him hurt the most. The way he felt against her, their casual, easy conversations, the way they had just clicked and dove into each other’s lives without so much as a stutter. Their sorrow at how soon they parted ways. The hope dying in his eyes. Those memories writhed through her mind, vibrant and colorful, contrasting with the moan of traffic outside, the cracks on the walls and the crammed in, claustrophobic feeling of the apartment.

  Consumed then by a sudden urge to not forget anything that had happened, Whitney searched for pen and paper, committing her experiences to paper.

  She was still scribbling when her mother returned from work, spotting Whitney’s jacket and boots in the hallway. Aniyah knocked on the door. “Whitney?”

  “Come in.”

  Aniyah stepped in, deep-lined face exploding into a smile as she saw her daughter. “Ah, lookit you! You're like a drowned rat, yet still gorgeous!” They exchanged hugs, with Aniyah giving sloppy, matronly kisses on Whitney’s head.

  “Where’s Da and grandma?”

  “Your da’s with a friend. The friend might be able to get him a job, so they looking into that. Grandma’s at some old lady meeting with three friends of hers. Think they're staying in a hotel.”

  “You didn’t mention that in the call, Ma – that’s real good. She needs to get out more so her bones don’t turn to soup. And Da, well… we been egging on him to be more active.”

  “Yeah, well, he ain’t gonna sit in my apartment not earning his keep. Also worried like a mother hen ‘bout grandma, one good sneeze gonna knock that woman down. Insists she’s tougher than she looks, of course. Brats as well will be picked up in a couple hours. I asked to start work early to manage it. Been up since five.”

  Whitney, battling her weariness, yawned and got up. “Sounds like you need something to drink and eat. I’ll make you something, you sit down, Ma.”

  “Uh, honey, I ain’t the one who been traveling all night. You look like a zombie. You been crying as well?” Aniyah dabbed at Whitney’s eyelids, making her daughter flinch back and swat her off. “You're cheeks are even more puffy than normal.”

  “Ma!”

  “You're manager didn’t give you too much stick? That blonde hellion didn’t drink down the whole house?”

  “Ma! Not now.”

  “Aight. Let’s get us some food. Come on. Up you go.”

  They ended up making bacon and eggs on toast together, and Whitney tried giving her mother a more detailed account of what had happened during the week, instead of their rushed conversations by phone. She provided information on virtually everything, except for how hot and heavy it had gotten between her and Jack.

  Aniyah, of course, sensed Whitney skirting the topic, and her daughter’s body language, curling up protectively as if shying away from pain.

  “Daughter-mine, sounds like you had a hell of a week with the company. But look at you. You act like that time those kids at Roswall school were bullying you, shrinking up every time you talk about that ranch owner. What's up?”

  Whitney debated with how much to tell. Hiding things from her mother wasn’t always the wisest option. However, the horrible, uneasy sensation that Whitney had made a terrible, terrible mistake lingered within. She didn’t think her mother would understand, or care, if she did tell the truth. But Aniyah also deserved to know. “You know I said Jack Brook, he's a good man, took personal interest in the activities and helping us, right? That he didn’t seem like much of a rich person – just someone who loved their job.”

  “Yeah. He mean to you? He didn’t hurt you did he?” Aniyah’s face blazed in indignation at whatever perceived offense she imagined.

  “No. No! Far from it. I wasn’t all honest with you, Ma. ‘Bout him. Jack and me, well, we got pretty friendly with each other. Like, under the sheets friendly.”

  Aniyah’s jaw dropped – but not in the way Whitney anticipated. “Whitney! You didn’t let him seduce you into his bed, did you? Oh, that vile man! People like him have no right to flaunt their status like that!”

  Whitney held up an imploring palm. “Ma! It was very, very mutual. Don’t worry. No abusing of power or anything. We had… it was amazing. Really.”

  She could almost witness the cogs in her mother’s head churning, with the additional information to process. “So… you went… with a rich man, willingly? Did he pay you?”

  “Seriously? What the hell, Ma?” Whitney’s voice rose an octave. “What is it with you? Flaunting status? Paying me? Is it so hard to believe that we were together in that week ‘cause we actually liked each other?”

  “Of – of course, I wasn’t saying that…” Aniyah’s voice trailed off. She made an effort to gather herself up. “So. You had a… fling?”

  Whitney sighed. “Guess so. It was… pretty amazing, Ma. We really connected. We couldn’t get enough of each other.”

  “Oh.” Aniyah raised one eyebrow, her finger tapping the table. “He was attracted to you?”

  “Obviously…” Whitney inhaled sharply, feeling a sudden, furious urge to slap her mother. Aniyah wasn’t listening, as predicted. Whitney knew on one hand that this was exactly the sort of reaction to expect. Of course, it might be hard to believe your precious daughter managed to find herself having an affair with a billionaire. But explaining to her mother that status, wealth – had absolutely nothing to do with it – would be impossible. She would only see that. Maybe Whitney should have lied, said Jack was a ranch hand or something.

  But then, explaining to her mother that a ranch hand wanted her to stay would sound ridiculous.

  “Ma. He actually wanted me to stay with him. To… come live on the ranch. That was how much we… connected.”

  “Oh.” Aniyah repeated the word. Her body had frozen up, as if stunned.

  “And he said… if I wanted… maybe if my family was interested, they could come as well. But I said that we had a life here, that moving to the middle of nowhere wouldn’t cop it. And yunno, I’m in pretty good with my work, even if it can be demanding.”

  Aniyah swallowed visibly. Her dark eyes looked unsure, as if staring down a minefield. “I see. Well, you did the right thing. I mean it can be quite exciting to have an affair, but they don’t last. You certainly couldn’t give up your job – we barely make it each year as it is. Unless of course he pays you lots. But North Dakota is quite far, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not about the payment, Ma…
it’s about the fact that there is a man in the world who seriously wants me to stay with him. Like, it ain’t bullshit, Ma. It’s ‘bout… love.” The word sounded so absurd, slipping out her mouth. Love. Four simple little letters. “I’m considering it. Like I never even thought about doing anything different from what I have before. But this week… it changed some things. And I think I love him.”

  Aniyah blinked rapidly. Then she let out a hysterical, disbelieving chortle. “One week, Whitney. You know how that sounds? That ain’t love. It just something new and shiny and different. You come back to me using that word, you sound insane, you know that? Oh, that came out rude. I don’t mean to be rude…”

  Yes you do, Ma. Whitney, attempting to take a bite of her toast, felt the taste turn to ash on her tongue. She spat it out. The whole topic, the moment Whitney had chosen to mention Jack, had turned the atmosphere between them into a blizzard. Of course Whitney held her doubts. She had her job, people she didn’t completely hate working there, a stable income and a home, that she was considering giving up for a man she had known a week.

  The trouble was, distinguishing which choice truly was the crazy one.

  “…I’m just worried for you. I mean, listen to what you saying. You're a sensible girl. You got everything you want here. You wouldn’t throw that away for an affair like some love struck fool.”

  “Just because you don’t know what instant love feels like if it punches you in the face doesn’t mean it ain’t real,” Whitney hissed venomously. Instantly regretting the outburst, observing her mother’s stricken, angry face, Whitney balled up her hands. “Okay, yeah, I know it sounds insane. I think it’s insane. Everything logical is telling me it ain’t gonna happen. But Ma. It really hurts here. Nothing to do with logic. It just… hurts. I wanna beat it off, but it don’t wanna budge.”

  Aniyah’s nostrils flared. Her breathing quickened. “I think we should stop talking. ‘Fore both of us say something we gonna regret. But, will say this. Listen to your brain. Your heart will make you do things like jump in front of a train. It won’t make you survive. Maybe you did feel attracted to him. But it ain’t gonna last. You know that. It’s just like being drunk. It wears off.”

  “So,” Whitney said between clenched teeth, “You think I should continue with my lifestyle as it is?”

  “Hell girl. You the one who said it yourself. You got it good. Much better than others.”

  “I hate this.” Whitney shook vehemently. “I hate being like this. Being… dependable. Always thinking ‘bout how you gonna cope. I…” She stopped. Emotions swirled in her like a storm. Anger at her mother, anger because part of her actually agreed with the things Aniyah said. Jack Brook. Feeling happy. Complete. And coming back to the stress of her overworked mother, unmotivated father and ancient grandmother, along with two growing kids.

  She saw it, in one clear vision. Going to work. People smiling at the office. People working, her settling down to her work. Sorting documents. Natalie’s false, magazine smile. Faith going back to her shy corner. The guys getting paid slightly more than the women who worked the same hours. Coming back home, hearing the kids scream, her father sitting on the couch reading another newspaper and pretending everything around him wasn’t happening. Her mother, babbling about work cuts and constantly worrying about the rent, rushing around at a hundred miles an hour.

  That was her life now, for the next week, for the next few years. She could almost feel her hair graying in stress at the image.

  Then there was Jack Brook.

  “Ma. I’m going back.” Taking a deep breath, Whitney rose out the chair. “Screw it.”

  “Whitney!” Aniyah stood up, gobsmacked. “You should go calm down. You ain’t thinking clearly.”

  “Ma, I’m thinking clearer than I ever had.” It was a lie, but she didn’t care. Whitney went to move to her bedroom, to grab items she needed for her journey, but Aniyah seemed to watch her do this too eagerly. Whitney understood in that moment her mother intended to lock her in the room, like she had done since Whitney was a child, with a stupidly designed door that had a lock on the damn outside.

  “Just go and cool down, Whitney. You give yourself rest.”

  Whitney strode into the hallways, scooping up her bag and placing on her boots.

  Aniyah stalked into the hallway, arms folded across her chest. “Whitney! What do you think you're doing?”

  Not bothering to answer, Whitney thrust her arms through the jacket sleeves, took out her keychain and unlocked the door. “For a walk.”

  “Whitney… just stay in, sleep it off.”

  “Changed my mind. Driving. To North Dakota.” Whitney strode down the block’s hallway, running down the stairs, ignoring the protesting shrieks of her mother behind her. Whitney’s heart beat rapidly, her brain was screaming at her to not be an idiot, that Aniyah was right, this was too emotional and irrational…

  But she left the apartment block, and jumped into her car in the resident parking lot. Her mother had just emerged outside as well when Whitney drove past her. Looking into the side mirror, her mother’s face formed a knot of fear and worry, that made Whitney’s guts twist up further. Fear, excitement and disbelief churned her blood.

  What was she doing?

  How could she do this?

  Everyone was expecting her at work tomorrow. She had yet to see the company photos taken during the trip, or how Outback Bandits felt with their promotions at the ranch.

  Stifling the roaring doubts, she pressed her foot harder on the pedal.

  Chapter 10

  Two hours away, Whitney pulled up on the side of the road and sent a flurry of text messages – to her mother, to Jack, Faith, Alex and Natalie.

  About eight seconds after she had sent the message to Alex, her phone started ringing. She answered it.

  “Hey, Alex.”

  “So, you declare that you’re quitting. Within a day of returning back home. Anything to do with Jack Brook and the ranch? Or did someone offer you a better position in a different job in the seven or so hours you’ve been back?”

  Alex was not one to lie to. “Quitting, because Jack offered to take me in. And I’m dumb enough to want to go for it, even though it’s unwise. My mother ain’t… taking it so good. I literally fled out the apartment and drove off, leaving her gaping after me like a fish.”

  “You’re driving there? Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well. You certainly weren’t kidding about it being fast. But if you’re planning to drive there just after you got back, you might need to consider finding a hotel somewhere. You will be too tired to make the journey all at once.”

  Whitney blinked astonishment. “Uh, what? You're not mad I just told you I plan to quit work?”

  “No. I expected it, actually. I’m not blind, Whitney. I saw what was going on between you two. I would have treated it as a fling, but I’m also not you, or Jack. I will recommend perhaps unpaid leave for a month so you can have more time to truly decide. But, regardless of if you do or not, you’ll get some bullshit from Natabitch over this. I’ll see what I can do to head her off.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Take care. And good luck.” Alex hung up. Whitney took her advice, driving on for as long as she dared, before exhaustion settled in. She paid up to stay in a cheap motel for one night.

  Doubt and fear thrashed in her the whole time. She had turned off her phone shortly after Alex’s call, not wanting to hear any voices of reason to pull her out of this, to make her feel ashamed and guilty for choosing a selfish, impossible option.

  The motel was seedy, the room tiny, the food meager, but Whitney managed to snatch an extra four hours of sleep, before signing out and continuing her journey from two in the morning.

  The road stretched out, melting into the familiar territory of Brook Valley Ranch when she rolled into it at six in the morning. Dawn broke over the mountains. She could see one of the ranch hands already in the fields. She stared at the field with a muzzy
, cotton wool sensation in her brain.

  I’m here. I’m actually here. I just… drove.

  Whitney turned on her phone. What am I doing? I’m insane. I’m insane. I’m not doing this. She checked herself in the rear mirror. She looked like shit. Her stomach growled. Heart thumping in fear and excitement, with a dose of nausea, she looked at her phone. It was flooded with messages, displaying twenty-four new ones since her call with Alex.

  Jesus Christ, I’m popular, now I decide to run off.

  First ones, Aniyah. The first few from her were full of anger, fear, worrying that if Whitney jeopardized their position and ran off, she wouldn’t make the bills. That she couldn’t cope in the apartment without Whitney.

  Each message made Whitney feel worse.

  Then, the final:

  I’m sorry, baby girl. I shouldn’t have doubted you. I… I was worried we would… struggle. But it’s not about me anymore, is it? You never got to live your life. I’m so sorry. Forgive me.

  Whitney’s hands shook as she reread the message. Somewhere in all that fear, her mother had found those words to send.

  Fighting back tears, she went to the next one.

  Alex.

  I told Natalie you resigned. If you change your mind, don’t come back. Well, you can, and I’ll petition in a good word for you. She might try to tempt you with a pay-raise, since I told her I planned to have you as assistant floor manager, step up from assistant office. But I think you should do what you’re doing now. From what I’ve seen and heard, there can be times to go a little wild. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as happy as when you were at Brook Valley Ranch.

  Take my blessing. Go snag yourself a billionaire. And make that new future of yours something amazing. Alex.

  The second message broke out the tears. Alex, that rude, brash woman, despite everything, she was honest. And she cared, in her own way. She wanted Whitney to not back down from the choice. She actually damn well cared. I was so wrong about you. Thank you. Whitney desperately needed that encouragement. It helped to nourish her confidence.